


Wish You Were Here

by lyvanna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Art, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Pining, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, absence makes the heart grow fonder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyvanna/pseuds/lyvanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Stiles is away researching werewolves in Australia. He's surprised that Derek is so keen on keeping in touch. Fluffy fluff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Inspired by Sterek fanart by <a href="http://olekkkk.tumblr.com">olekkkk</a> on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by olekkkk's [drawing and AU idea](http://olekkkk.tumblr.com/post/56416256113/x-allison-takes-a-polaroid-picture-of-stiles-and) on Tumblr.

Out of everyone from Beacon Hills Stiles would never have thought in a million years that the one who kept in touch the most would be Derek Hale. The guy could barely use the Internet when Stiles knew him so his sudden proficiency with Skype was highly suspicious. (Until Stiles saw Cora sneaking out of the room one time - stealthy werewolves - he'd teased Derek about it so hard the Alpha had turned red around the ears and found the hang-up button all by himself). He'd kinda expected Scott to be lost without him and was a little disappointed when he wasn't. Not that he didn't call every couple of days, but his friend had really grown into his Alpha responsibilities now and he'd found that actually took up a lot of time. But Derek had ordered him to check in at 8am every day (which was like evening in Beacon Hills, leading to some rather incongruous conversations where Stiles' ate breakfast and Derek ate dinner, Stiles scrubbed and fresh for the day, Derek more than often bruised and battered). At first he'd kinda ignored the 'order' as dammit Derek wasn't his Alpha but it turns out that being in another country and working nearly all the time meant that he craved any sign of home, even Derek's sour face. And maybe he felt a little sorry for the Alpha, clearly he had nothing else to do with his time. 

They usually just talked about his research. And considering the subject was supernatural he wasn't surprised that Derek was interested but he was that he was actually knowledgable. Sure, he was a werewolf so it made sense but in the beginning having any kind of intellectual discussion with Derek was weird. He might have hurt Derek's feelings a little when he told him that the first time. 

He'd first broached the subject of his father about two months in. They'd been in contact of course and he'd left Scott strict instructions to check up on him, but he and Derek had been arguing and it just... Stiles had been late to his computer. Maybe two hours late. Usually 8am was the perfect time for him to chat before going off to work but they'd just made a huge breakthrough the day before and been given the rest of the day off. Which they'd decided to celebrate with a lot of alcohol and dancing and possibly some running along the beach naked, he wasn't completely sure. The team was small but he'd not really had a chance to get to know them outside of work until this point and it turned out they were pretty cool people for obsessive no-life supernatural researchers (he was allowed to say that being one of them). So he'd stumbled to the computer at about eleven (ok, three hours late) rubbing a his face in an attempt to make it look more face-like and had been surprised to see Derek was actually waiting for him. At first it had just looked like an empty apartment but then in the shadows he'd just about been able to make out Derek on the couch with a book in his hands. The light from the monitor was bothering his eyes so he sat and fiddled with the brightness for a second before saying anything, giving Derek the chance to notice he was there. He closed the book slowly, stood and moved over to the screen.

“Hey,” Stiles said distractedly, opening his emails at the same time as trying to work out how his hair was full of sand. 

“You're late,” Derek snapped,

“Yeah, sorry, we had kinda a wild--”

“What if something had happened?”

Stiles eye's snapped from his emails to Derek on the screen, “Has something happened? Scott? My dad?”

“No.. I meant what if something had happened to you,” Derek looked uncomfortable. 

“Oh.. well, I'm pretty much so far away that none of you would have been able to help me anyway, if something wanted to eat me I'd be already digested before you could get here,” Derek didn't look comforted by this, “Are you seriously angry about this dude? Like, if you're worried about me, just pick up a phone, I know it's kinda expensive but if the alternative is eating into your electricity bill by waiting by the computer for hours I figure it's pretty much going to be a wash,”

Derek shifted in his seat, “I didn't know if...”

Stiles felt his heartbeat pick up and shit he was too hungover for this, “Yeah... anytime, you have my number..” he had never felt more glad that they were thousands of miles apart and Derek only had human-level senses to work with.

“Your dad is fine by the way,” Derek said, quiet. 

“Yeah?” Stiles lifted his eyebrows, surprised, “You saw him? What did you get arrested for this time?”

“Nothing,” Derek grumbled, “I just thought I'd check on him as he's an extension of my pack,”

“I... uh?” Stiles' mind boggled. 

“We can call him pack if you want,” Derek shrugged.

“Wait. I'm... pack?” 

Derek shot him a frustrated look, the kind that meant he was trying to decide between which kind of idiot he wanted to call Stiles first, but finally all he said was, “Yes Stiles, you're pack,”

“Oh..” was the only intelligent response that Stiles could muster. Stiles absently rubbed at the stamp on the back of his hand from some club last night. Derek kinda looked like he was about to hyperventilate... well, he looked his usual Dereky self but Stiles had gotten pretty good at reading his microexpressions. He didn't really know what to think about being pack. It gave him an unexpected good feeling and although he was definitely going to have to call Scott after this, he decided to just go with that. He smiled at the camera and said emphatically, “Good,” and then, quieter, more sincere, “That's good,” 

How his dad would feel about Stiles, and by extension himself, being in a pack of werewolves, was going to be an interesting conversation.

~

After that their schedule became less regimented. Derek seemed to prefer talking on the phone and he'd call Stiles' at the stupidest times to discuss his latest bit of research (usually two steps behind where Stiles had gotten to since the last time they talked, but sometimes frustratingly disproving whatever theory Stiles was working on). Slowly little bits of information about both of their lives would seep into the conversation. He'd ask about his dad, who Derek seemed to see with alarming frequency, or the latest Beacon Hills drama and slowly Derek would also let out little bits on information about Cora, about his frustrations with Peter, about his plans to rebuild the Hale house. They'd still chat on Skype sometimes but it was more relaxed now, Stiles would speak through a bowl of cereal, curled up in the faded t-shirt he slept in, he'd leave Derek mid-sentence to go get dressed and they'd keep up the conversation throughout. Their talks were shorter now, but more frequent. They didn't have less to say, they'd just cut out most of the awkward pauses.

When Stiles was out of contact for a whole week, the team were excavating some caves in the middle of nowhere, he came back to an actual email from Derek. Well spelled but frustratingly vague. Clearly the written word was not his forte even if he was surprisingly well read. One of the last conversations they'd had had developed into a spirited discussion into Kafka where Derek hadn't appreciated werewolves being compared to giant insects – Stiles had meant it as a compliment. 

“Did your hair grow?” was not the first thing he expected Derek to say to him when they spoke again. 

“Uh, it's been known to?” Stiles reached up and dragged a hand through the mess on his head before taking a proper look at the screen, “Da'fuck happened to your face?!” 

A long red gash ran from just off-centre of Derek's forehead down to his jawline. It looked nasty on camera so was probably even worse in person. Derek frowned, winced and tried to hide it all in one movement of his eyebrows. Damn. 

“It's alright, everyone is ok,”

“Uh, clearly not,” Stiles swung his hand at the screen and made the monitor wobble by smacking it with his fingers. 

“It'll heal,” Derek shrugged, “Just taking it's time,”

“Ok,” Stiles sighed, “Start from the beginning,” 

The story involved new hunters, a surprise alliance with the Argents, wolfsbane and his dad being so frighteningly badass that he might have punched the air several times during Derek's story despite the bloody moral. 

“Oh man, I need to speak to my dad right now,” Stiles grabbed for his phone but stopped mid-thought. Derek was watching him. Suddenly his eyes couldn't quite make their way back to the screen. The impulse to tell Derek to be careful had struck him. But that sounded stupid, some human telling a super-healing Alpha werewolf to be careful. And if he asked if it hurt that sounded--

“Call your dad, I'll talk to you later,” Derek said quietly. They said their goodbyes but once the screen had gone blank Stiles found himself just toying with the phone in his hands. 

As always the promise of speaking with Derek later felt like a relaxing hand on his neck, a steadying presence, a comforting certainty. They spoke at least twice a day now (he didn't even want to think of the phone bill, his work was surprisingly rewarding but Derek didn't have any income as far as he was aware), increasingly about nothing at all, which often felt more intimate than discussions about werewolf powers. It was hard to get Derek relaxed enough to chat about nothing at all. And now they spoke twice a day. He spoke to Derek more than he spoke to people he was in Australia with. He didn't need dragging out of bed for their morning meetings anymore, he woke early. He pulled his phone out of his pocket more than once in a day, ready to tell Derek something before stopping himself, remembering it wasn't... that they weren't. Fuck, he didn't even know. If he was wrong about this it would be horrifying and embarrassing and would probably get rid of the only thing that was keeping him from getting homesick. The only thing that stopped his skin from prickling and his heart pounding and his knees from pulling him to the floor. He was pack. Family. But he wasn't sure what kind of family. 

Stiles crawled back onto his bed, shoes still on, lay down and pressed dial. Derek picked up on the second ring, “Couldn't get through?” 

“I...” but what could Stiles say? He was lonely here, needy, the idea that Derek might feel... it was completely stupid. 

“Stiles, what's wrong?”

“N-nothing, sorry, just hit the wrong number, talk to you later,” he hung up before Derek could comment on his expensive mistake. 

Coward.

~

Ok, Stiles had seen _Clueless_ , it was a classic. And that bit in it where Alicia Silverstone realised she was hot for Paul Rudd and suddenly couldn't act the same around him? That was now his life. Their conversations, once relaxed and light, now ticked along at a snails' pace. They had been the thing that he'd looked forward the most in a day and now he kinda resented them, dreaded them. Couldn't wait for them and couldn't wait for them to be over at the same time. The only thing that Derek said was, “You look tired,” but he seemed to sense the change. Well, you'd have to be an idiot not to notice that their conversation didn't flow as freely as before. Mostly Stiles reverted back to that old staple, his research out here, the things they'd discovered. Like did Derek know that werewolves and humans had existed peacefully together even thousands of years ago? And did Derek know that they all used to celebrate the full moon together? And did Derek know that he was just going to keep on talking like this forever until they hung up so he didn't start confessing his feelings all over the place? Derek's face healed with time, not even a scar, but the fighting with the hunters increased. Stiles had offered to come back to help but Derek had shaken his head dismissively because of course Stiles couldn't be any help. Except for that time when he'd conducted a whole group meeting via Skype and planned an attack that eventually led to the hunters' downfall. Except for that. For a moment he'd actually enjoyed rubbing that in Derek's face (and Derek's not-quite scowl made him think that he might have enjoyed it a little as well).

But it became worse when Fiona, a girl he was on the dig with, started flirting with him and he'd blurted out that he had a boyfriend. Or an unrequited love thing, as he'd confessed over several drinks and an attempt to kiss her anyway. It was as if his capacity for humiliation had decided to test his belief that things couldn't get any worse. She'd been very cool about it and Stiles wished that he'd felt something for her. But he was too busy dividing his time between moping about Derek and diving into his work to try and forget about Derek. 

He wasn't sure if it was reassuring or even worse that he wasn't the only one who'd thought his relationship with Derek had been heading somewhere. It started just with little mentions, Scott would say 'oh yeah Derek told us that' when he'd start in on a piece of research. At the time he'd just been annoyed that Derek was stealing his thunder. Then Allison had started dropping in little details of Derek's day into their conversations. At first he'd barely paid attention, then at some point he'd started clinging to each piece of information. It had never struck him as strange that Allison brought Derek up all the time, until now. He knew she thought she was being kind but it hurt. Even his dad had become used to saying 'well get Derek to let us know if you need anything'. He never thought he'd get his dad's seal of approval before Derek's. 

He tried to protest, now more than ever, but his friends would just roll their eyes. And it made him feel more alone than ever. Maybe that was the problem. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't really sure what he felt. That he was just clinging to the idea of Derek as a lifeline, an anchor, in this unfamiliar place where he missed everyone. Underneath every friendly word from his colleagues was a competitiveness to discover something first. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to go home. 

Then he hadn't been able to reach Derek for two days. His feelings had fluctuated between fear, annoyance and convincing himself that he was being stupid and clingy and of course Derek had stuff to do and he was busy and oh god why wasn't Scott picking up his phone and now he was but wasn't telling him anything and being all mysterious and did he have enough money right now to book a flight back home and wasn't he pathetic for even thinking that when Derek was probably off running around the woods somewhere happily chasing bunnies or maybe with some nice lady werewolf. When Derek had appeared again at their usual morning meeting two days later like nothing had happened (with the explanation that nothing much had happened, a new pack had been visiting and there was the usual posturing to do) Stiles could only talk for a few seconds before disconnecting abruptly and and going to lie on his bed until his body stopped shaking. 

And now it was ridiculous. Normally he'd have called Derek an asshole, would have demanded that he kept him better informed. But anything like that felt like he was being too obvious. He felt like he was slowly unravelling in this place. 

He woke at 3am to his phone vibrating. He didn't bother to turn on the lights, just saw the caller ID and pressed the phone to his ear, “Hey, you know what time it is?” he attempted to mumble, not sure how many of the words actually came out, “Everyone ok?” the thought that they weren't waking him up with a sudden shudder. 

“I... Everyone here is ok...” Derek started hesitantly, “I was wondering about you.”

“What? Yeah, I'm fine,” Stiles answered automatically. 

“Stiles I...” his voice drifted off into silence. Stiles opened his eyes but it was pitch black so there was little difference. Still his heart pounded, “tell me I'm not imagining things,” Derek said finally.

“What things?” Stiles asked, quiet. 

“I thought..” a growl, “I like talking to you, like finishing my day with you, you've been different,”

Stiles could barely organise his feelings in the harsh light of day, asking him to do so when half-asleep was just unfair, but he knew that traitorous hope was making an appearance in his chest, “I... have,” Stiles admitted. 

“Is it... do you want..?” 

Stiles wasn't sure what it was that Derek thought he wanted. Their communication skills had apparently gone back to... actually no point in their relationship had they spoken to each other like this, even when they were pretending to hate each other. No wonder they were both so nervous. 

Derek was nervous. 

Stiles smiled. It was just that simple.

“I like talking to you too,” he said, almost feeling Derek's sigh through the phone, “Kinda miss it when it doesn't happen, hell I miss it even when we've just finished speaking for two hours straight. I thought... that wasn't a very healthy way to be if,” come on, “if you didn't feel the same way,” 

“Turn on your computer,” 

Stiles untangled himself from his sheets with some difficulty and scrambled across the room, still sleepy, still bleary-eyed, to boot up his computer. He hung up the phone when Derek's face clicked into view. “Hey,” he said, soft. Derek smiled. Well, the corner of his mouth moved upwards, but Stiles took it as a win. 

“Hey,” Derek echoed, “Wanted to see you,” 

Stiles scratched at the back of his neck, smiled a little bashful, “Ok,” 

The quiet between them now wasn't awkward, it was awed. Or at least that was how Stiles felt. He drank in Derek's face, unable to look away, now that he felt like he was truly allowed to. He finally felt the weeks of avoiding looking at Derek's face, not drinking in his eyes, his cheekbones, his hot-as-fuck stubble, “Am I dreaming?” Stiles asked finally.

“If you were I'd hope you wouldn't imagine yourself with drool stains and sunburn,” 

Stiles glanced down at his t-shirt, “Asshole, I was attempting romance,” he tried to bite back the word but it'd already escaped his mouth. 

Derek smiled. A real smile now. Stiles spoiled the moment a little by yawning.

“We can talk about this tomorrow if you want,” Derek offered, “There's no rush,”

“Hell, no, you know how long I've been waiting for this? Like, I thought I was going mad out here. You really... like me? Ugh, hang on, that was too high school, which I am out of now by the way, well over any age barrier or concern you might.. hang on, shutting up,” it really was too early in the morning for this. 

“I do,” 

“Good, me too, I'm coming home,” Stiles got out in a rush. Derek leant back from his screen,

“No, you have another two months,” 

“Dude, you can't just counter my romantic gesture – yeah I went there again – with logic and reason, I really want to see Scott's face when you make out with me in the airport,” 

Derek snorted, “Finish your research Stiles, we can wait,” 

“Well, maybe you can, my dick is chafing over here. Shit, too far?” the influx of feelings was perhaps disorientating him a little. 

“Too far if you don't want me to book a flight over right now,” Derek said and he was actually clicking around on his computer at the same time. The heady rush of emotions was actually making Stiles feel dizzy. He would not swoon. 

“Alpha stuff,” Stiles reminded him. Derek stopped clicking and sighed. “Two months then,” Stiles agreed with a sad smile.

“Two months,”

~

“Did you like me before I came here? Is that why you were so strict about keeping in touch? Or was it that without my unearthly beauty around you finally were able to appreciate my sparkling personality as well?”

“Stop changing the subject just because I'm winning,” 

“First off, there is no way you're this competitive over Pong, and secondly it was a serious questi—yes! That's 6-2 now,”

“Only because you play dirty,”

“Me? Please, you're the one sitting there in that shirt,”

“What's wrong with this shirt?”

“Absolutely nothing and you know it, now I'll let you win the next one if you'll answer my question,”

“I don't need you to _let_ me win anything. And there were about six questions in there,”

“Was this some kind of Machiavellian plot by you or did it just happen?”

“Why is that important?”

“Oh my God, you totally planned this!” 

“No I didn't,”

“Yes you did! Oh my God, you totally wanted some of this. Derek! One of your plans actually worked!”

“I'm hanging up now,” 

“Oh come on, I love the blushing it's so cute,”

“Stop. It.” 

“It's totally 6-4 now,” 

“It's 6-2 and I'm still going to win,” 

“That's the spirit. But you might say you've already got the ultimate prize. Me. Geddit Derek? Geddit? Because you—Hey!”

“6-3”

~

Stiles had no idea what they'd be like when they met up again and had to deal with each other more frequently. He was pretty sure that a few days with him would have Derek regretting his decision. They could talk like this, but the distance was both and irritation and a comfort. It was safe. Now they knew how each other felt a kind of nervous energy vibrated through Stiles during each of their talks. After their late night chat things pretty much returned to normal. They didn't whisper sweet nothings to each other all day, their conversations just returned to normal. It was only the occasional 'miss you' or blushing reference to his return that convinced him that that night had happened at all and it wasn't just their usual flirtatious banter happening now.

When he finally got off the flight he was covered in a cold sweat, his 'tan' had started to peel a little around the edges, and his shirt felt worn and thin from hours of nervous shifting. His dad was supposed to be meeting him so his eyes almost passed over Derek when he was scanning the crowd. He stood, scowling at the surrounding people and then at Stiles when he saw him. 

Stiles felt like he'd forgotten everything about him. Talking to him through a screen he'd forgotten the actual body of Derek Hale (and what a sin that was), forgotten how big he was, how green those eyes were, how he liked to look so angry at the world. His heart soared then dropped all in the space of a breath. It wasn't going to work. Derek strode over to him and he readied himself for the awkward conversation. 

Warm, calloused hands cupped his cheek, tilted his head up, and he looked up into those too-green eyes. Derek's eyes flickered all over his face, like he was drinking him in. He was breathing deep, like the stale sweat on Stiles was the sweetest thing he'd ever smelt. Stiles opened his mouth to say.. anything... and found his lips covered with Derek's. At first a soft, chaste kiss, then more urgent. His bags dropped from his hands and he found himself grabbing at Derek's shirt, trying to pull him closer, pull him into his skin. When they drew apart, reluctant and gasping, he realised Derek's arms were wrapped around him. 

“No, wait..” Stiles pulled out of Derek's grip leaving the Alpha looking confused, nervous. Stiles grinned then jumped at him, forcing the werewolf to catch him with a grunt. He lowered his head until their noses were touching. 

Later he'd reflect on how he'd not even noticed Scott, his dad and Allison all watching this with varying expressions of bemusement, resignation and delight. Allison had even snapped a couple of pictures of them without him noticing. But he was jetlagged and dehydrated and mostly just distracted by Derek's fingers curled into the material of his shirt. That was his excuse.

“Is this some _Love, Actually_ fantasy?” Derek murmured, eyes trained on Stiles' lips. 

“I can't believe you just said that,” Stiles dragged his nose along Derek's and pressed their lips together. Now he knew this wasn't desperation, wasn't loneliness, wasn't the result of homesickness. This was what he had been waiting for when he didn't even know he'd been waiting. Derek lowered him to the ground slowly and linked their hands together. 

“I've seen your dvd collection,” 

“From those times you were creeping in my bedroom?”

“Yeah. Lets not tell your dad that,” 

"I've got news for you, you weren't that stealthy,"

"Well, he's not shot me yet," Derek huffed.

"He's playing the long-game. He said you were the carrot to tempt me back home,"

"I...what?"

"Well, it worked,"

"I'm not sure how I feel about that,"

Stiles tightened his fingers around Derek's and smiled at the returned squeeze, “You love having me back. And now I know you have discovered my -- deeply ironic of course -- enjoyment of romcoms, we can start this with my biggest secret out already,”

Considering their lives it seemed pretty stupid to think that the worst was over but standing there in the airport holding Derek Hale's hand and smiling like an idiot Stiles couldn't help feeling warm happiness swelling his chest with just that possibility. 


End file.
